


Like You Mean It

by taranoire



Series: Birds and Bees [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taranoire/pseuds/taranoire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy has finally been invited up to Edward's dorm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like You Mean It

**Author's Note:**

> request by flamelscross on tumblr: "roy/ed frottage"  
> I hope you all like it! :3

In five years of knowing him and three months of dating, Roy has never seen where Edward Elric sleeps at night. Suddenly he’s been invited here into the intimate confines of his room, his bed, Edward briefly casting aside the tightly guarded privacy that he values in exchange for a different kind. 

The dorm is tiny, quiet, and the best part is that there won’t be any interruptions from Alphonse, who would probably kill Roy if he knew what he was doing with his pretty elder brother. 

They’re making out like teenagers on the unmade, Edward-scented sheets, and like a thunderbolt in the dark it occurs to Roy that the blond beneath him is in fact only seventeen. That’s all the more reason to be careful with him, not just physically, though there is that; Ed is giving up an awful lot of power here. 

Of course, Roy is more than confident that his subordinate is willing. 

The evidence is in the noises he makes, soft and keening; it’s in the way he moves, pressed up against Roy’s body just right; it’s in the possessive clutch of Edward’s cool metal fingers in his shirt. It’s his eyes. Enthralling, layered shades of gold that always seem to know more than Edward lets on, eyes that light painful pleasured sparks along his spine. 

"You’re okay?" Roy asks, slightly breathless from the sight of him, warm hair and cold metal and black t-shirt riding up his stomach. He sweeps his hand over the blond’s abdomen and feels his muscles tighten, feels him tremble. 

"Yeah," Fullmetal says, dazed, then tugs him back down into a needy, deep kiss that sends a heavy thrum all the way through Roy’s body, to the very edge of his fingertips ghosting through Edward’s hair. He vaguely wants to melt into him. He wants to memorize the dance of his tongue. The feel of his waist beneath his hand. 

Roy has kissed him for hours on end before, kissed him until they were both sleepy, exhausted, and warm, and it has never, ever been a disappointment. Being so close to him is like exposure to a strong, heady drug. He can’t stop. 

Edward breathes hard through his nose as he leans up to kiss him, to take his lip gently between his teeth, his body shifting up towards his as if it needs more heat. There’s something desperate about the way Ed touches him, impatience mixed with carelessness; it’s addictive and intoxicating and if Roy could he would do so many things to him, things he can’t even describe—

"Please," Ed whines, sucking and biting where he can, and Roy knows what he’s asking for but can’t give that to him now. ”Please, let’s just—”

“Ed—”

"—go for it, fuck right here and now because I shouldn’t have to wait this long for you to finally—" 

The blond gives a quiet, breathy moan against his skin and then kisses his jaw, his neck; Roy very nearly loses it, closing his eyes and holding still, so still, drowning in too much of Ed, his scent and his heat and his eagerness overwhelming. 

"E-Edward," Roy whispers into his hair, trying desperately not to dry hump him into oblivion, "slow down, darling, I’m not going anywhere…." 

"Bullshit," Ed says. "You leave me every time it starts getting good, I want you, I don’t want…ugh…” He fixes him with a dark, annoyed look and then he’s licking the line of Roy’s pulse. The man scarcely dares to breathe, groaning softly before leaning down to take his mouth, the blond’s name a prayer in his head: Ed, Ed, Ed…

He starts to unbutton his own shirt but in doing so accidentally shifts down against Fullmetal’s hips, friction hot between them with the whisper of cloth and leather.

"Fuck," Edward moans, panting softly as Roy nibbles his ear, "you’re really hard…” There’s no point denying that now and Ed is already impossibly more excited about this, grinding slowly up into him in a way that makes his head spin. The blond is clearly very close to his edge from the noises he’s making but Roy doesn’t want it to end like this. 

He disentangles his hand from Edward’s hair and starts unzipping the boy’s fly (dark, soft leather hushing against his skin, the vibrations of the teeth intimate in the silence). Ed gasps and then jolts, grabbing his wrist so tightly Roy wouldn’t be surprised if it turned out to be broken. 

"Wait no, I’m not ready for—" 

"I know," Roy says gently, a little shaken that Ed thought otherwise. "I’m not either." 

Edward relaxes back into the mattress, gold hair feathering outward against white, and he stares expectantly at the Flame Alchemist in a way that would make any other man lose his confidence completely. But Roy is not quite so easily intimidated by the high expectations of this teenager. 

He slips his hand beneath the band of his underwear, exhaling shakily when he feels how hot, hard, wet Ed is, and the blond trembles beneath him noiselessly at the touch. Ed tries to say something but Roy quiets him with a soft kiss to his ear, wanting every moment of this to be devoted to Edward’s pleasure. 

"You are so incredibly beautiful," Roy murmurs into the soft skin beneath his ear, breathing him in, trying to convey the utter breadth and depth of his want. "I think you know it, too. I think you like knowing what your body does to me, don’t you?" 

Edward whimpers, looking down towards where Roy is stroking him slow and gentle, lust and need warring in his gaze. “Undo your belt, colonel,” he commands, voice surprisingly steady for how much he’s shaking. 

Roy obeys. It’s awkward and slow because of how close they are and how contagious Ed’s trembling is, but he frees himself from his pants and when he does Edward can’t take his eyes off him. He’s arching up into Roy’s hand around his sex and biting his own lip hard enough to leave marks. 

"Help me," Roy practically pleads with him, because Ed’s pants are sticking to his thighs and he wants him naked and vulnerable against him and his skin. The blond impatiently does it himself before throwing his arms around Roy’s neck and pulling him down into a hard kiss that Roy (violently) (needily) reciprocates. 

He puts his hand between them and grinds down against him, tight and hot and practically without any real rhythm at all. Edward is far better at making sure he keeps things slow, intimate, rocking his hips with such graceful, fluid coordination Roy can’t help but let him set the pace. Where the holy hell did he learn to move like that? 

He honestly doesn’t want to ask or know, because the idea of anyone else touching this beautiful creature makes him angry enough to kiss him harder, brushing blond hair away from Ed’s perfect mouth. Soon Ed is moaning around his tongue, lax and soft and breathless as he continues to slide up against Roy’s cock. 

The colonel is enjoying this far, far too much. 

"Edward," he groans softly against his lips, brushing a kiss against his cheek, down his jaw. "Edward, I want to be inside of you so badly. Do you want that too?"

"F-fuck, yes," Ed says, voice hitching. He’s starting to lose that perfect pace, his eyes are glazed over and sweat drips down his brow into damp hair. "Fuck, fuck, fucking shit…ah, ah, ah, Roy…” 

Roy grabs his chin and forces him to look him in the eyes. The hand between them is sticky and hot now and he is so close he can feel his heart hammering. “I would fuck you so good, Fullmetal, so deep you would want to scream. I would fill you until you felt numb with pleasure. I would make you squirm on my cock and beg me to do you harder, the way you know you want it…” 

"Oh God—” 

He kisses his neck, breathes him in, murmurs nonsense into his skin and then Edward is shaky and tense and Roy is burning with lust when the blond comes hard against him, in his hand, when he hears him sobbing his name. The thrumming of Edward’s body, the sound of his orgasm catching in his throat—Roy is gone, he’s just gone, taken completely in a hot, wet instant. 

He moans Edward’s name softly into his hair. Repeats it. Feels like he’s dying but in a way that’s so, so good. 

Edward gives one final slow shift of his hips, lips parted, and then goes limp, head falling back against the mattress. Roy smiles, satisfied by the image of a sated young blond beneath his body, and cups the boy’s face in his hand so that he can kiss him through the aftermath. Ed’s lashes flutter closed and he slips into an unusual quiet, soft sighs the only sounds that escape him. 

Roy wishes he could do this for the rest of his days, just kiss and hold and share space with Ed. But they’re sticky and messy and Edward looks tired; the Flame would rather not fall asleep on top of him like this. Alphonse would kill him without a doubt. 

He reluctantly clamors off of Ed and reaches for the tissues on the nightstand, then begins to wipe away the sin on his hands. He tries not to think about how wrong this is. Because isn’t that it? Wrong, to love Fullmetal in this way, and so intensely, and so… 

Edward is staring at him. 

"Are you okay?" Roy asks. 

"You say a lot of weird shit when you touch me," Ed says, bronzed eyes gazing at him with the kind of perception that gets him in trouble. "How much of it is true and how much of it do you say just to get us both off?" 

“‘Weird shit’ such as…?” 

Edward definitely blushes but it turns into something more like a scowl. “You know.” He snatches the tissues out of Roy’s hands and starts to wipe himself down. “That you think I’m—you know. Do you really need to make me say it?” 

"Beautiful?" 

Edward is silent. He’s clenching his jaw as he tosses used tissue haphazardly to the floor. 

Roy’s gaze softens. He pulls his pants back up his hips. “I mean everything I say to you.” The belt through its loops. “Every single word.” The buckle. “Especially that.” 

The blond doesn’t seem to understand. “Why?” 

Roy wonders what he sees when he looks in the mirror. Or at any of his actions, in retrospect. Or at the way he carries himself. Or at the raw love and passion he puts into everything he does. Of course, he probably doesn’t do any of this; he probably looks at himself as some kind of grotesque chimera of steel and blood. As a monster.

"Listen to me," he says, because the thought of Edward hating himself so completely makes his stomach turn. He takes his face in his hands and caresses his hair with both thumbs. "I am not a good person. In fact that I am with you, in this room, speaks for itself. But I know goodness and beauty when I see it, Ed. And you are, in few words, beautiful. I cannot describe to you how lovely you are; I cannot tell you how much your mind terrifies and thrills me. All I can do is thank whatever gods there are that you are alive, that you are safe and that I am good enough for you.”


End file.
